Quote:

Ladies and gentlemen, I'd planned to speak to you tonight to report on the state of the union, but the events of earlier today have led me to change those plans. Today is a day for mourning and remembering. Nancy and I are pained to the core by the tragedy of the shuttle Challenger. We know we share this pain with all of the people of our country. This is truly a national loss.

Nineteen years ago, almost to the day, we lost three astronauts in a terrible accident on the ground. But we've never lost an astronaut in flight; we've never had a tragedy like this. And perhaps we've forgotten the courage it took for the crew of the shuttle; but they, the Challenger Seven, were aware of the dangers, but overcame them and did their jobs brilliantly. We mourn seven heroes: Michael Smith, Dick Scobee, Judith Resnik, Ronald McNair, Ellison Onizuka, Gregory Jarvis, and Christa McAuliffe. We mourn their loss as a nation together.

For the families of the seven, we cannot bear, as you do, the full impact of this tragedy. But we feel the loss, and we're thinking about you so very much. Your loved ones were daring and brave, and they had that special grace, that special spirit that says, "Give me a challenge and I'll meet it with joy." They had a hunger to explore the universe and discover its truths. They wished to serve, and they did. They served all of us.

We've grown used to wonders in this century. It's hard to dazzle us. But for 25 years the United States space program has been doing just that. We've grown used to the idea of space, and perhaps we forget that we've only just begun. We're still pioneers. They, the members of the Challenger crew, were pioneers.

And I want to say something to the school children of America who were watching the live coverage of the shuttle's takeoff. I know it is hard to understand, but sometimes painful things like this happen. It's all part of the process of exploration and discovery. It's all part of taking a chance and expanding man's horizons. The future doesn't belong to the fainthearted; it belongs to the brave. The Challenger crew was pulling us into the future, and we'll continue to follow them.

I've always had great faith in and respect for our space program, and what happened today does nothing to diminish it. We don't hide our space program. We don't keep secrets and cover things up. We do it all up front and in public. That's the way freedom is, and we wouldn't change it for a minute. We'll continue our quest in space. There will be more shuttle flights and more shuttle crews and yes, more volunteers, more civilians, more teachers in space. Nothing ends here; our hopes and our journeys continue.

I want to add that I wish I could talk to every man and woman who works for NASA or who worked on this mission and tell them: "Your dedication and professionalism have moved and impressed us for decades. And we know of your anguish. We share it."

There's a coincidence today. On this day 390 years ago, the great explorer Sir Francis Drake died aboard ship off the coast of Panama. In his lifetime the great frontiers were the oceans, and a historian later said, "He lived by the sea, died on it, and was buried in it." Well, today we can say of the Challenger crew: Their dedication was, like Drake's, complete.

The crew of the space shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved good-bye and "slipped the surly bonds of earth" to "touch the face of God." "
Ronald Reagan
(End Quote)





Do you remember where you were? What you were doing?

I was in my office at the paging company in St. Louis. Our sales manager came running in and said that the Shuttle had exploded.

We turned on a TV that we used to check for interference and all sat there and watched in disbelief.

I was standing at my desk waiting for my Shakespeare class to start. I remember what I was wearing, who I was standing next to and where the sun was in the sky. It was my first national tragedy that had a big effect on me. I found it to be quite frightening and scary.

Then, of course, sad. Very sad.

I was working middle shift that day at KATU and was in the living room watching the launch in real time, about 8:45 AM Pacific.

Other major events in American history I happened to see in real time included Neil Armstrong's first steps on the moon and Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald.

I watched it in person. I had seen all but 1 launch up until then(one of the most amazing things you'll ever see). When I saw what happened, I turned to the elderly lady standing next to me(who was watching a launch for the first time)and told her " they are all dead" she looked at me with a puzzled look so, I repeated it and went inside to mourn and watch the news reports. It makes me sad just to think about it now. Except for 9/11 the most touching thing that has happened in my life, not involving people I knew.

I watched it in person, also. We were watching it on TV, then ran outside in disbelief. Just stood there in absolute silence, watching with tears streaming down our faces. We stared at the sky, then each other, well after the streaks faded...like we'd forgotten to go back inside.

I was just settling into an English class at Franklin when I was called to the front office. The ghostly look on the secretary really freaked me out. I thought for a second there may have been a death in the family or something.

On the way, I passed the equally shaken librarian and a/v guru, Mr. Ercolin as he whipped past with a couple of televisions on rolling carts. I slowed long enough to offer to help and he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "The Space Shuttle blew up -- that's all I know this minute."

When I got to the office, I had a message from KBPS. They wanted me to get my classmates impressions of the disaster. I believe I went back to the library and checked out a tape deck and microphone, but I may have had a ride to Benson for a remote kit.

I saved and still have the initial announcements of the disaster that were torn off the wire and read by Tanya and Ron moments after the bells rang. Yes, I was in radio when there was a teletype. For you kids, it was shaped like a squat brown mailbox, it ate forests of paper, and was very noisy. It only ever dinged when something seriously hit the fan.

If I recall correctly, we preempted the taping of Portland High Life for that Friday, and took the rest of Tuesday and our usual Wednesday production day to create a tribute show. It was odd to suddenly realize we were all geeks born and raised in the age of spaceflight, and I think that struck an emotional chord. I wonder if a copy survives somewhere?

Shortly after the disaster, I used some of the material for a big spread we did in Franklin's school paper, the Post. Next to the tragic shooting of John Lennon, it was probably the single most emotional moment for me -- and I suspect much of my generation -- to that point.

Even more morbidly, I also have the original application packet for the Teacher in Space Program. My father and I were both in CAP, and it was among a bundle of goodies that Uncle Sam sent our unit by the boxload. I thought it was a cool idea.

BTW, a few folks may remember that Warren Dalby -- the band instructor at Mt. Tabor Middle School -- was among the applicants for the flight. He was a friend of the family and a fine pilot.

A couple years later, I remember standing in front of WPLA in Plant City, Florida watching the distant plume from Discovery. We shared the binoculars as the shuttle climbed like a homesick angel, the trail slowly was scattered and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It was the very first launch after the disaster and I bet that God's answering machine was packed full.

I didn't hear about the disaster until about 4pm. I had done my all night shift at the radio station and was sound asleep when the accident happened.

I have talked to many of my broadcasting brethren who were on the air when the news broke and many have similar stories about working past the emotional trauma and remain professional. I really appreciate the professionals who can handle a situation like that with grace, dignity and still able to deliver the story.

I was in class, watching the thing when it happened. We all sat in stunned silence. Not much else happened that day --we just talked about a lot of stuff.

Pretty sure this was 5th grade.

Remember watching all the cool NASA stuff, for a long time after that, and thinking it really is a frontier and what that word really means in terms of human life, risk.

People got real complacent, Space travel, and high performance aircraft is a real dangerous business.


The US goes to extreme measures to try and not lose anyone, but its nor a realalistic goal.

But when something goes wrong, there is another Yeager, or someone like him willing to step up and try again.

Nwokie - man...I'll save it for another thread.

I was in the 5th grade when the explosion happened. I was in the after lunch social studies class, and the teacher was running late. He popped into the room and said something like, "class, the Space Shuttle Challenger has exploded...If you wish you can go down to the library to watch the news." I didn't go to the library, but that was no big deal, as replays of the explosion were running almost continuously on all of the network affiliates that afternoon. The entire NBC nightly newscast that evening was devoted to the explosion.

I later heard a rumor that the school's speech teacher had applied for the Teacher in Space program and had made it pretty far in the selection process. He was very shaken up about this disaster.

I was at KEX at the time. As I recall, the reason we carried the ABC Radio feed of the launch that morning was because "it was a slow news day."

I'll always remember Vic Ratner's long, drawn out comment seconds after the explosion of "Something has goooooone a miss."